


Weathering The Storm

by vodka_and_some_sass



Category: The Night Manager (TV)
Genre: Astraphobia, F/M, Fluff, Smoking, Storms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26563087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vodka_and_some_sass/pseuds/vodka_and_some_sass
Summary: You and Pine get caught in a storm that will have an almost devastating aftermath. Usually that would not have been your concern, but you have astraphobia (fear of thunder storms).
Relationships: Jonathan Pine/You
Kudos: 6





	Weathering The Storm

**24 HOURS TO HIT**

Your eyes widened as you saw Jonathan drag two plastic barrels of drinking water and place them in the kitchen, his muscles flexing under the linen shirt that you often rubbed between your fingers when you were doing the laundry. You turned away, a light blush gracing your cheeks as you began to unpack the grocery bags. You pulled out packets and packets of dry rations, cans of tinned food, boxes of candles and other emergency supplies. You looked up from the table, your voice a little skeptical. 

“Jonathan, isn’t this a bit..excessive?” You asked. He seemed to have prepared for a siege in your opinion, and you wondered if it had anything to with his past in the army and special services, a need to be prepared. 

But the look on Jonathan’s face raised your proverbial hackles. You watched him warily as he sat down in front of you, eyes boring into yours. “I-” he stumbled on his words, surprising you. If there was one thing about Pine that you were jealous of, it was the fact that he was so smooth with his words. You braced yourself, unsure of what to expect.

“The storm warning, it’s bad. The locals are saying it’s the worst they’ve seen in decades and I thought maybe you wanted to leave while we had the chance. We could go away for a couple of days and just take time off.” 

You inhaled deeply, turning your back to Pine under the pretense of putting away the rations. You were a damned fine agent, and no one would deny that. But if there was one thing that could unhinge you, it was a storm. You closed your eyes, trying to take a calming breath as flashes of when you were trapped under a boulder on the steep side of a mountain for three whole days while one of the most violent storms in the history of storms rolled on for two of those days. You had been only twenty four at the time and had been fooling around with a group of friends. You had never told anyone the story because it was something you never wanted to think about, even though your arm and legs felt phantom pains every now and then. But years later, it became very clear that you had astraphobia when you froze in the middle of a mission because thunder rolled just a little too loudly. Your partner had taken a bullet to his leg while dragging you away from the fray. Apparently PTSD could be suppressed and could resurface. Shaking your head to rid yourself of those thoughts, you turned back to Pine who was waiting patiently for your response.

You forced your tone to remain light and nonchalant as you smiled at him. “I’ll be fine, Jonathan. I still think that you are being a little paranoid. I’m sure it isn’t going to be so bad that we need to stock up for a siege like situation.” 

A week later, you would thank the universe for his paranoia and his sixth sense for things like this.

**6 HOURS TO HIT**

You stood on the porch, watching the sky slowly darken. The air around you was so still that you were beginning to feel uncomfortable, as though you were trapped within a vacuum seal. There was no breeze to carry the sound of Jonathan’s footsteps to you and you startled when you felt his hand rest on your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He whispered, his arm draping along your shoulders. After a year of being undercover as a married couple, some things came to the two of you naturally, even when you were in your small house on the outskirts of the city, where no one saw you. You were suddenly glad for the fact that you and Pine were close to each other, making your story at least partially genuine. If this storm was half as bad as the locals were predicting, you were going to need all the comfort he could provide. His thumb rubbed circles on your upper arm as he sighed. 

“I’ve filled both bathtubs with water. The PWD have said that they will cut off water and power about two hours before the cyclone hits the city. Hopefully we’ll get it back within hours of the storm passing.” He said, his voice gentle and low. Under normal circumstances, you would have called him out for treating you like a skittish animal, but right now, you were beginning to feel exactly like that, the impending storm making anxiety boil agonisingly slow within you. Your instincts were yelling at you to lock yourself and hide, to curl up in a ball and plug your fingers in your ears even before the storm started, just so you wouldn’t have to witness any part of it. Instead, you nodded silently, watching and waiting. 

**3 HOURS 30 MINUTES TO HIT**

You knew the power had gone out in the city. The faint orange glow in the distance that you could always see after the sun went down wasn’t there and you knew it was only a matter of minutes before you lost power too. 

You and Pine had sat down on the steps of the porch. He had left your side only once, to set up candles around the house and to pocket his lighter, bringing you yours to keep. The stillness had been replaced by a pleasant breeze, not too strong but not gentle either. You felt something fall into your lap, looking down to see an unopened pack of cigarettes. Jonathan’s smile was tense. “Your file also mentioned that you smoked when you were stressed. I know you gave it up for the cover, but it’s unfair that you have to deal with astraphobia without a coping mechanism.” 

Your responding smile was shaky but the gratitude in your eyes couldn’t be more clear. Your hands shook slightly as you opened the pack, pulling out one and lighting it. As you took your first drag, your body trembled for a brief moment before you relaxed. You smiled your second smile in over eight hours. “My file must have been pretty detailed if you knew to get this brand and in this flavour.”

The returning smile that Pine sent your way was almost shy, one that you had never seen before. “That wasn’t in your file. I noticed how your gaze lingered longingly just for the tiniest second when we’d be in a shop that sold this. I made a calculated guess.” Somehow, that touched you more than you expected it too. You tamped down on the rising feeling of more than just friendly affection as you leaned against the cement railing of the deck. Comfortable silence enveloped you as you inhaled the heavy smoke, mint and tobacco filling your lungs. There was a click and then the glow of the lights behind you faded. You heaved a sigh into the darkness, taking a final drag of your cigarette before you stubbed it out. Jonathan stood, offering you his hand and helping you up and leading you into the house. 

It was almost here.

**60 MINUTES TO HIT**

The wind had picked up considerably, rain hammered down hard on every surface exposed to it, making it sound like war drums were being beaten and you tried not to focus on how the windows were rattling in their panes. Jonathan had closed all of them when the lights had gone off and while both of you were trying to ignore the stuffiness of being in a completely closed home, Pine was definitely doing better than you were. You focussed on him, watching how his lips curled around certain sounds, how the tendons in his arms twitched when he held your small hands in his long and slender ones, thumb rubbing your knuckles. You watched the bead of sweat roll down his throat, disappearing into the forest green henley that hugged him perfectly, the sleeves tugged up to his elbows. If you concentrated hard enough, you could shut out all the noise around you, which unfortunately included his molten, rich accent as well, but it was a small sacrifice you had to make.

Jonathan was not scared of storms. His service had ensured he had seen and heard of things far more dangerous and terrifying. Yet, there was something about the way the natives were behaving that left him feeling unsettled. The poverty line dwellers had abandoned their homes and gathered in the city hall and whatever other public buildings they could find. Most of them had grabbed whatever they could, shoving them in bags and leaving the rest at the mercy of the storm. The cashier at the supermarket had told him that this was the fourth super cyclone the coast would witness in twenty years. He hadn’t told you but he had looked up the previous storms and the intensity and devastation were severe. More severe than any storm he had witnessed. And the locals expected this to be at least twice as bad. He didn’t tell you any of this, of course. Your history with storms was so dark that Pine had expected you to ask him to pull his weight around and fly you out before it landed. But he also should have known that you would put your professionalism first and when he had offered to put in a request for a ‘couples vacation’ as part of your cover, just long enough for you to get away from the storm, you had declined, telling him that you would be fine. He knew you wouldn’t and silently vowed to make things as easy for you as he could. Except that he did not realise that he would not be able to battle the storm alone.

**30 MINUTES TO HIT**

The storm had almost impossibly continued to pick up speed outside, while inside, you were beginning to feel like you were stewing. The cacophony outside the house was something you were trying desperately to block. Apart from the wind and rain, there were other noises, sounds that you could only associate with a kind of violence that none but nature was capable of. The house was dark for the most part, except when there would be a flash of lightning. Then the house would glow with bluish white light and Pine would wrap his arms around you, allowing you to bury your face in his side till the thunder had passed. He would count down the seconds between the lightning and thunder, and the soft vibrations that his voice caused in his body were soothing, but not enough to stop you from flinching when the thunder did roll over your head. 

Another bolt of lightning flashed across the sky but this time, instead of being followed by thunder, it was accompanied by the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. The house was filled with rushing wind, the two candles in front of you and Pine going out and leaving you in darkness. You pulled away from his hold and looked at him.

“Please tell me that is not what I think it is?” You mumbled, making a move to get up. 

Jonathan sighed, helping you up and turning on his phone torch. You had wanted to save the battery of both your cells but desperate times called for desperate measures. “Grab some of the biggest plastic bags you can find and the toolbox.” He asked as he grabbed a broom and headed in the direction that the noise had come from. Turning on your own phone light, you fumbled through the shelf below the kitchen sink and found the box you were looking for. Pulling two large black garbage bags, you picked up the red toolbox and made your way to the back of the house where you had a small laundry room.

You had not expected the door to shove itself open when you turned the knob, the force of wind pushing against it as it tried to wrench your arm. You dropped the garbage bags and using the toolbox to balance your weight on your left, you yanked the door shut with your right hand. 

Pine stood in front of the single window in the room, his entire being drenched as he swept up what looked like shattered glass. The cyclone outside had turned so powerful that the window had blown in, breaking in large fragments, some of which were still attached to the edges of the pane. Rainwater was blowing into the room and you could see it beginning to pool around the washing machine. 

“Wait near the door please, darling.” The words rolled off his tongue smoothly, his voice calm but loud enough to be heard over the roaring of wind and rain. Once he was done, he stepped over to where you were, hunched against a wall in a pitiful attempt to defend yourself from the rain that was being swept by the wind into the house. He gently pried the toolbox that you were gripping, picking the garbage bags and going back to the window. Within a few short minutes, he had nailed and taped the bags over the windows, preventing the wind and rain from entering. The violence of the wind against the plastic was loud and in your head, it seemed deafening paired with the rolling thunder. 

Pine pulled out two large towels from the linen cupboard, wrapping you in one before guiding you back to the couch. He lit the candles again, grey eyes reflecting the flames as his brows furrowed. “I’m going to bring you some dry clothes.” Ten minutes later, you were curled against his side, wearing a large, black full sleeve henley that belonged to him and the softest pair of joggers in your closet. 

**0 MINUTES TO HIT**

This was the part that terrified you the most. The dead calm that entailed being within the eye of the storm. The uncertainty about when it would pass and when you would be thrown into the turmoil of crashing thunder and battering winds again. You sat extremely still, alert for the smallest sounds that would indicate that the opposite end of the storm was passing over you. 

You jumped, almost toppling the nearly burnt out candle when Pine rested a cool palm on your thigh. “The reverse winds will hopefully be less harsh. It’s almost over.” 

If you had known what was going to follow, you would not have allowed yourself to feel the warming sense of relief and pride that his words lit within you, for neither of you had realised it, but the worst had yet to come.


End file.
